The Case of The Four Garricks
by DrewsUsername
Summary: As Holmes's celebrity is on the rise in London, he and Watson are called to investigate the bizarre conditions surrounding the deaths of two American performers and unexpectedly discover the darker side of fame and obsession.


******Please rate and review! This is my first attempt at a Holmes story. I've already got another three of four chapters plotted out, but I'd like to know that people are enjoying/interested in the story before I continue writing. I'm having fun, but it's taking way more time and work than I thought it would.**

**The Case of The Four Garricks**

_Ch. 1 – The Master and The Celebrity_

There is no place in the world I would have rather been than the sitting room of 221B Baker Street on that dreadfully cold night in early November.

The snow that had been falling on London since the late afternoon was now just barely visible through the sheet of frost that painted the room's two large windows. Ms. Hudson had been kind enough to light a crackling fire that instantly consumed any draft or chill that attempted to enter our cozy chamber.

Settled comfortably in my usual spot on the sofa, I was reading the evening edition of the _Chronicle_ and smoking a superb blend of Balkan tobacco I had purchased earlier that day.

Holmes was sitting at his desk with one of his notebooks open, engrossed in memorizing the heights and weights of the hundred most wanted criminals in London.

Holmes suddenly broke our easy silence by casually asking "So, Watson, how much were you promised today for a second printing of '_The Hound of the Baskervilles'_?"

I looked up from my paper.

"But… how do you know about that, Holmes?" I asked incredulously. "I haven't said a word of it. In fact, I went out of my way today to try and keep it from you. I knew you would only give me grief for it."

"Well, my dear Watson, you failed, miserably," Holmes said with a smirk.

"Tell me, then. How on earth did you find out?"

Holmes looked up at me from his notebook.

"I observed and then I deduced," he said as he stood to move to the spot in front of the mantelpiece where he preferred to give his explanations.

"You see, Watson, this morning I heard your footsteps when you tried to sneak past my bedroom door on your way out. I immediately went to the corner window there and saw you hail a cab. While you were waiting, you appeared unusually happy for a man standing in the biting cold of the English winter. You were also rubbing your hands together - not in the quick, vigorous manner one was does for warmth, but in the slow, greedy way a spoiled heir would upon receiving his immense inheritance."

I grimaced and sank in my seat a bit.

"You then got into a cab and proceeded to head north. I asked Ms. Hudson if she knew where you might be going and she said you had mentioned you had business with a Mr. Smith and probably wouldn't be returning until supper."

I grumbled. "I asked her not to tell you."

"I know. She mentioned that as well," Holmes said with a slight smile.

"Now I asked myself, who is this Mr. Smith of the north? A patient? Unlikely. No, I have never once seen you visibly excited about going to see a patient, and you hadn't taken your medical bag with you. A friend or family member, perhaps? Equally improbable. All of the few friends and relatives you have spoken of live to the south and none have the name of Smith. You would also not have used the word 'business' to describe a friendly visit or leisure activity, so I eliminated those possibilities. That left me with the idea of a business associate. Since the only business you have outside of your practice is your writings for _The Strand_, whose office is north of here, I concluded that this Mr. Smith must be none other than Greenhough Smith, the editor of that illustrious periodical."

"All right, but how did you know about the second printing?"

"Simple.

"I observed yesterday, on my return home from the bookstore, that every newsstand I passed was running very low on this month's issue of _The Strand_, and that doesn't usually occur until the end of the month. I made inquiries and was told by a cashier that your little yarn about our time at the Baskerville estate was a sensation and sure to warrant a second printing. Now, when I paired this information to my earlier observation of your excited demeanor and then to my deduction about your mysterious Mr. Smith, it seemed evident to me that you were going to see him about some additional payment for another printing. Since you've been as chipper as bird all evening, and are now smoking the rather expensive Balken blend you purchased today to celebrate, it's safe to assume that you will indeed be receiving an additional payment."

I couldn't help but grin and concede defeat. "Ah, I see. I see. Very good, Holmes. There's no getting anything by you. You truly are the master of deduction."

"That, Watson, is only because I am its most dedicated student," Holmes said and quickly returned to his desk to continue memorizing.

"And, if you must know, I was offered 100 pounds and graciously accepted," I said proudly.

Holmes gave out a long whistle.

"You should read it, Holmes. I think I did you justice."

"Watson, I have no doubt you've done the _story_ justice, with your usual exaggerations and romanticizing of events. I'm equally sure though, that I would find you've yet again cheated the public out of what could have been an instructive and useful analysis."

"Well, based on sales, I don't believe the public feels cheated at all. In fact, Holmes, you would be amazed by the amount of adoring letters you receive at _The Strand_. Mr. Smith showed me a bag full of them, all addressed to you. You're quickly becoming a celebrity in your own right."

"Yes, I've started receiving some of those adoring letters here at Baker Street as well," Holmes said.

"You have? I've never seen any."

"That's because I asked Ms. Hudson to filter and then deposit them in the bin. I would be grateful if you could relay the same to Mr. Smith."

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in Ms. Hudson!" Holmes yelled.

Ms. Hudson opened the door and entered the room carrying her usual silver tray.

"Telegram for Mr. Holmes," she said cheerily.

"Ah, we were just talking about you. Please leave it at the edge of the table there. I'll get to it in a moment."

"Ms. Hudson," I said firmly, "you told Mr. Holmes about my meeting when I requested specifically that you not do so."

She gave out a chuckle.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Doctor. I told Mr. Holmes you asked me not to tell, but he promised me he would keep his room clean for two weeks if I did!"

Holmes covered his mouth to try and conceal a mischievous little laugh. "Thank you, Ms. Hudson," he said as she exited the room.

The sound of the door closing jolted something into my memory for no particular reason.

"Oh, Holmes, I just remembered! I was going to wait a day or two and fabricate a story of how I obtained them, but seeing as how my meeting has been exposed by your deductions, I should tell you that Mr. Smith gave me tickets for the both of us to attend the opening night performance of The Four Garricks this Friday evening at the Savoy Theatre in Westminster. Would you care to go?"

"I might if I had the slightest idea of what you were referring to," Holmes said indifferently.

"You've not heard of The Four Garricks! Do you not read the entertainments section?"

"Not unless coerced."

"Oh, they're an absolute sensation in America. Fascinating story - the group is composed of two identical twin brothers by the name of Garrick who married two identical twin sisters by the name of Westmoore. All four of them are immensely talented. They sing, dance, play several instruments; I've heard it's quite an amazing show. It's rumored that the Queen herself might be in attendance."

"I do apologize, old friend, but I must decline. I have plenty of mindless distraction available to me right here," Holmes said as he picked up his telegram and started to read it.

"But please give the Queen my re…" Holmes stopped suddenly and his eyes widened.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Watson, I've changed my mind. I will go with you, but perhaps we should go tonight instead."

"Tonight? Why on earth would we go tonight?"

"Because our presence has been requested at the Savoy Theatre to help investigate the murders of Daniel and Edward Garrick!"


End file.
